Keith Edward English, Wordsmith

     “Axrom’s balls!” Gax hissed. “You don’t think I killed him, do you, Dar?”

     “He looks plenty dead,” Darlis’eit said, shaking her head. She put a palm to her brow. “I’m bewildered… I shouldn’t be, what with you being a dumb idiot, but I am. Blight me, Gax! You’ve got to start looking before you throw other idiots through windows!”

     Gax was a pragmatic orc. And in a world where coin served a man, woman, or creature better than any sword, he made sure to keep his wallet healthy. Occasionally this meant doing things of questionable merit. Hence why he was sitting in a tavern in Beshek with his meaty hand drunkenly reaching for an empty mug only to knock it to the floor. 

     The two human women, the stout dwarf with an impressive beard – though also a woman – and the elf male seated around the table glared at Gax as he apologized profusely and bent down to grab the tankard. His head collided with the side of the table hard enough to knock over towers of coins and slosh ale out of mugs. The players looked down at their stashes and moved their cards away from the splattering drink. 

     Gax’s green-skinned hand deftly slipped inside his unlaced boot and fished out one card while replacing it with another. He raised himself up and smacked the underside of the table with the back of his head, this time without intentionally doing so. 

     “Oh, that’ll take the piss out of them,” said Elbert from over Gax’s shoulder. The large orc would have turned around with a questioning glance, but relieving himself in his inebriated state felt far too good to pay the human much mind. 

     “Who?” asked Urgric, the dark-skinned orc standing next to Elbert at the mouth of the alley. 

     “Well, I said them, didn’t I?” 

    A hurled tankard slammed Gax in the side of the head, splashing warm ale across the green skin of his face and wetting the thin strip of long, dark hair tied in a tight knot at the back of his head. A hush fell over the patrons of the Smashed Helm. Even Darsil’eit, his elf companion, stared at Gax with raised eyebrows and her mouth slightly agape. Gax licked the ale dripping down his wide, flat nose, then rose from the table. 

     Wood groaned and protested as he spun toward the whoreson responsible for his dripping face and the sharp pain about his eye. A drunk man stared dumbly at him, seeming quite sober though Gax knew he’d imbibed heavily, as was usual for Helric. 

     “Gax, gods above, man, I didn’t mean it,” he stammered, clasping his hands together. “Was but an accident, I tell ya. Nothing more, promise. Tell him, Doran. Tell him, dammit!” 

“Some hoard of treasure this is,” Darsil’eit scoffed, smacking Gax in the back of his head.

Gax turned to glower at his elf companion as she strode by, but she ignored him to inspect an arrow she had moments ago held against her bowstring. “I’m telling you, I had a vision. There’s weapons and armor, trinkets with gold and jewels in one of these caves.” Gax frowned at the pile of animal feces he had knelt down to inspect, nervously running his fingers along one of the large canines that protruded from his lower jaw.

“You probably saw pixies dancing and screwing in the air when you had your vision with as much wanderer’s moss as you ate. Tiny, stupid orc brain couldn’t tell you when to put the stuff down.” Continue reading “Hold my Battleaxe 9 – Gax goes Treasure Hunting” →

Flopping madly and spraying drops of water all about, the large, disc-shaped fish at the end of the line struggled valiantly to get away from the cudgel in orc’s hand. Just like he had done to the three before this one, however, Gax gripped the fishing line and let the fish dangle in front of him until it calmed slightly. Then, he smacked it across the eye with his club and it went dormant. He whistled as he removed the hook from its mouth, his meaty, orc fingers fumbling the hook a few times.

His joyous whistle turned to a growl as the hook pierced the tip of his finger for what must have been the third time today. He instinctually put his finger in his mouth to suck on it and spat it out quickly after, the stink and taste of raw fish lingering. Once he finally removed the hook, he tossed the fish into a wooden chest lined with burlap, a block of ice purchased from a butcher beneath that. Continue reading “Hold my Battleaxe 8 – Gax goes fishing” →

Koe lay on his side, atop a hill, dying.

Or so it seemed, moaning and griping as he was.

Fal felt like cutting off one of the man’s fingers to show him what real pain was. He dismissed the idea quickly, though. Mostly because Koe was his good friend and brother, partially because some snake-like bipedal, ugly son of a whore was bearing down on him. Continue reading “Fal and the Boys get Drunk During a Battle” →

Delve into the end of chapter 4 of Revival of Fire to learn the origins of the gods. Tying Earth to my series was both easily done and a fun twist. I’m sure if you’ve read the first two books this will be an interesting little spin.

***

Prosectero’s thoughts drifted through the labyrinth of his mind, dredging up memories ages past. He found himself recalling a day that still struck fear into him, when he had been called Daniel, before he had adopted a new name. He lay, strapped to a table in his home with one side of a thin wire of copper taped to his temple and the other end hanging from a rubber hook fixed to a nearby contraption, surrounded by many unfamiliar faces, and two that he felt far too fondly of. He was fourteen.

His father glided about the table monotonously, his emotions vanished as he checked straps, mechanical equipment, and ancient artifacts. His mother stood within the gaggle of fascinated men and women, stoic, her piercing eyes stabbing into his soul. He cried out in confusion and terror, but he might as well have been a mute, so unaffected was the crowd and his very own parents by his begging and sobbing. Continue reading “The Villains from the Ruination Gods Series came from Earth” →

Take a peek at a snippet of the 1st draft for the cover of Revival of Fire, the final novel in the Ruination Gods series, and read the prologue and first chapter below.

Prologue

Heart pounding, Rilaena slipped down the natural path carved through the overgrowth of wavering brush. She ran beneath the witness of the three moons and several distant planets that spun through the cosmos around Expansion, the planet she now called home. Stephan clutched the tips of her fingers as she ran, staggering as she darted down the trails that branched off from the main road. She prayed that not a single person from her guard or entourage–or anyone for that matter–had seen them. Her silent plea fell on deaf ears, it seemed, as several winged figures rose up into the sky behind them, engines whirring, announcing their presence. Continue reading “Prologue & 1st Chapter of Revival of Fire” →